The Doll of China
by meltinglacier
Summary: She's nothing but Tianzi, the royal puppet. Tianzi, the girl only good for a marriage alliance. But Xingke sees the real her. And he'll never leave her, because he promised, and he always keeps his promises.


**The Doll of China**

**Summary: **She's nothing but Tianzi, the royal puppet. Tianzi, the girl only good for a marriage alliance. But Xingke sees the real her. And he'll never leave her, because he promised, and he always keeps his promises.

**Pairings: **One-sided Xingke/Tianzi. Or maybe not? Eh, you decide.

**Warnings: **Sexual ideas.

* * *

><p>Tianzi is a doll.<p>

She's been aware of this for as long as she can remember.

She's not a real doll, of course. She knows that now. But when she was younger, she had thought that she was. She had heard one of her advisors call her a puppet when he thought that she wasn't listening. For days, she had worried, checking her body for the strings that controlled her.

Now, she knows that the strings are invisible, connected to the grubby fingers of her many advisors. They pull her around, jerk her this way and that, make her dance to their tune. And she nods and agrees and does her very best to stay on her feet.

She has long since learned that she's not expected to be an Empress. She's expected to be a doll. And so she acts like one.

She's a useless plaything, a pretty empress who smiles and waves and sits very still on her throne as people are sentenced to death before her. Her eyes fill with tears that aren't allowed to fall. Dolls don't cry.

But she's not useless. Six years ago, she saved one of those people.

He's protected and cared for her since that day. Now, as his reward for his dedicated service, he gets to watch as she's handed off to some Britannian prince as part of a treaty.

She's nothing but a doll made of china. A doll made _for_ China.

She can't paint her face like a real doll, because it's not proper for the Empress yet. Her advisors say when she's married she will start to wear cosmetics. Privately, she thinks that the only reason she's not allowed to paint her face is because makeup makes her look older. Her advisors like her to look younger, and 'more innocent'. But, she never says that out loud, because dolls aren't supposed to think.

She's been a doll for so long that she can't remember the last time someone called her by her real name. Jiang Lihua might as well not exist. She's nothing but Tianzi, the royal puppet. Tianzi, the girl only good for a marriage alliance.

Sometimes, she wonders what would happen if she killed herself. She imagines slitting her wrists and letting the blood stain her white dress red. She knows that she could never do that though, because she would never leave Xingke behind.

Even his name is enough to send a giddy thrill through her.

She hugs her arms to her chest and squeezes. Her chest feels tender and too tight, and there's a hot sensation building inside it.

Her body has been doing strange things to her, growing up and leaving her mind behind. She has no one to talk to about things like this. Sometimes, she thinks about talking to Xingke, but the very idea makes her burn with embarrassment.

If she was really a doll, she wouldn't be feeling like this. She doesn't know how she feels about that.

She wonders if Xingke would like it if she painted her face. She wonders if that Britannian prince would like it. Her gaze strays to her dresser. Inside of the third drawer from the bottom, buried at the very back under a pile of clothing, are pots of cosmetics. The servant girl who smuggled them to her took a great risk, and for that, Tianzi is grateful.

Hesitantly, she walks toward her dresser and takes out the pots. She dips her finger in some rouge. She smudges some on her lips, then finds a pot of white powder. She scoops up a bit of it and wipes it on her face. Further investigation reveals a pot of black liquid. A few quick strokes of a brush later, and she looks into the mirror hanging on the wall.

Large eyes ringed in black stare at her from a white face. Bright red lips stand out, partially hidden by a marriage veil. She blinks, and the veil disappears.

The girl in front of her blurs. She throws the pot at her reflection. The mirror shatters, but the pot doesn't. It lays there, whole, and mocking her as red seeps into the carpet. There's a shout and her door bursts open. Three guards and a servant girl come rushing in.

They find their doll empress sitting on the bed with black tears dripping down her cheeks.

They immediately send for Xingke. She can see from the uneasy glances that they give each other that they don't know how to deal with her. No one wants to touch the doll empress if they can help it.

When Xingke arrives, her tears have dried, but dark lines adorn her face. He immediately crouches down and licking his thumb. The touch of his thumb on her face should not affect her so, but it does. She sits stiffly as he cleans her face methodically.

The other people in the room file out. They are reassured that Xingke is taking care of their doll.

He gives her a cloth, which she wets with the water in the basin at the foot of her bed. While she scrubs at her face, he sets to work on picking up the broken shards of the mirror.

"Empress, what was this about?" He doesn't look at her.

"Nothing."

A hot blush suffuses her cheeks, staining them a natural red. How foolish of her, to think that she could interest him like that. He's so much older than her. What use could he have for a thirteen year old girl?

Almost immediately, her mind supplies her with answers, vivid images, and she feels her face becoming even hotter. Xingke's not that kind of man. She's not that kind of girl.

She pauses and considers. Maybe she could be that kind of girl for him, if Xingke wanted that. But not for the Britannian.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"Well it was."

"Lying is bad, you know." His voice is teasing.

"So what? Everyone lies." Her voice is sharper than she intends it to be.

"Everyone like who?"

"Everyone, like everyone." She waves her hand vaguely. She doesn't want to explain that every person in this whole palace is a liar. Her advisors lie about politics, the nobles lie and tell her that she's a great ruler, and those ambassadors from Britannia lie about her marriage. Even the maid that cleans her room every morning – the one with such a beautiful wedding ring – lies about whose bed she shares at night.

Her lips quirk upward as she thinks about her maid. Tianzi has seen her and another man she thinks is a cook's assistant lightly running in the halls after dark, giggling and pressing against walls for stolen kisses. She wonders what it must feel like to embraced like a man like that.

She wonders if she'll ever know. After all, men don't kiss dolls.

"What's that look for?" Xingke is discerningly close to her and she just shakes her head.

He sits on the bed behind her. His weight dents the bed and she nearly falls into him. He places a steadying hand on her back. The heat from his palm radiates through her clothes.

"Nothing."

He takes white locks in his hand and starts to brush. She wants to tell him to stop, because this is something that a father would do for a daughter, and she doesn't want him to see her like that. But she doesn't, because it feels nice.

"I think that we've already had this conversation, Empress."

"Why do you call me that?"

He sounds surprised. "Call you what?"

"Empress."

"Because you are."

The words burst out of her before she can stop them. "No, I'm not!"

"What do you mean?" His voice is careful. He's talking to her like her advisors do, and she hates it. She answers him anyway, because he deserves to know.

"I'm just their puppet princess."

"That's not true." His words lack conviction and she tilts her head back to glare at him.

"I'm not stupid. I'm thirteen," she says. "I know my place in this palace."

"And I know my place too."

This confuses her, and he must see it on her face, because he smiles down at her. "With you," he clarifies. "My place is with you."

Her neck is starting to hurt, so she sits back up properly. He resumes brushing. She wonders if he likes her hair. She's never seen another girl with hair like hers; that must mean it's special.

She wonders if he thinks it's pretty.

"So, how was your day?"

She shrugs.

"And what does that mean?"

She shrugs again.

His tone is definitely amused. "I'm afraid I don't understand you," he says. His fingers brush against the nape of her neck and she shivers. They pause, and then continue with their brushing.

"You know how my day was. You were there."

"Ah, true, but I'm not you. I don't know what goes on inside your head."

"Not much," she says quietly. "I don't think much."

She shouldn't be telling him things like that, because she doesn't want him to see her as a dim little doll, but that's what she is.

"You do."

"How do _you_ know? You just said that you don't know my mind."

He laughs softly at the petulant tone of her voice. "But I know your actions. And your actions tell me that you are quite a smart girl. You do think a lot."

"I just don't do anything with my thoughts."

He doesn't disagree.

"It's because I'm a doll," she mutters.

He understands what she really means when she says that. His hands still, then he's turning her around until she faces him. He's so close to her. Her heart pounds.

He cups her face with two hands, tilting it up toward him. "You're not a doll, Tianzi."

"How do you know?"

"I know because dolls don't have feelings. They don't smile and laugh. They don't cry. They don't chase butterflies in the garden and gaze at stars at night. They don't have wishes and secret dreams to see the world. You're not a doll. Never think that."

The earnest tone sends a thrill shooting through her and she nods. He still hasn't released her face and she curses her traitorous cheeks as they warm up. He must feel how hot her face is burning, but he doesn't let go. If only she was plastic, or cool china.

He lets go of her face and turns away quickly. Tianzi sits on the bed, feeling helpless as the coughing starts. She catches a glimpse of blood as he lowers his hand.

She doesn't ask if he's okay, because she knows he's not. Instead, she asks, "You won't leave me, right?"

She knows it's not fair of her to ask him such questions. Knows that he can't promise her anything.

"Of course I won't. I'll never leave you."

He knows that it's not fair to promise her that, but he still does.

She nods, and turns the conversation to other topics. They do not talk of politics, or Zero, or marriage alliances. They do not talk of what has been bothering her, but he still comforts her all the same.

Xingke sees Jiang Lihua, the girl, not Tianzi, the doll empress. And Xingke will never leave her, because he promised and he always keeps his promises.

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><p><strong>AN:** So, apparently Tianzi's thirteen...I did not know this; I thought she was like, eight or something. Anyway, this started out as a short oneshot revolving around the word 'doll,' then it kinda...grew. So feedback would be appreciated for this one, because when I started it, I didn't have a clear idea of where I was going with it.


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